


Dinner Date

by streitkartoffel



Series: Ficlets [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-22 03:07:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11371326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/streitkartoffel/pseuds/streitkartoffel
Summary: Sherlock misses dinner. John is annoyed. Sherlock makes up for it.





	Dinner Date

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MorganeUK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganeUK/gifts).



The noise woke John at two in the morning.

**thump thump thump**

He was angry enough as it was, Sherlock having ran out five minutes before they were to leave for dinner at Angelo's. But NOW the git had apparently come home, and decided to wake the entire street with whatever experiment was currently cannibalizing the dining table.

**thump thump thump**

John was not getting up. Heck with Sherlock, running off god-knows-where when he knew (he KNEW! John had set the reminder on Sherlock's phone calendar himself) that tonight had been their date night.

**thump thump CRUNCH** "Fuck!"

Ah, hell. John rolled out of bed, pulled on a tattered dressing gown, and made his way downstairs to see if his idiot boyfriend needed stitches. Sherlock was laid across the sofa, clutching his nose and glaring at the ceiling. He looked up as John came in.

"I bade you didder."

"You did what?"

Sherlock sat up abruptly and pointed at the (miraculously clean) dining table and repeated, "I bade you didder." The table was set beautifully, with plates of penne with red sauce and garlic bread.

"You cooked?" Sherlock never cooked.

"I bissed our date." John sat next to Sherlock, prying his boyfriend's hand from his face. "And you broke your nose is the process?" "Dot broken, jusd bleedig." Sherlock shrugged. John got the message.

"Lean forward, love. I'll get you an ice pack." John brought a cold pack, a gauze pad, and both plates back to the sofa with him, then retrieved the wine. They ate there, plates propped on their knees, Sherlock alternating bites of food with pressing the cold pack to his nose. They agreed it was a much better date than Angelo's.

* * *

 

Sherlock refused to say a word about how he'd injured his nose until the swelling went down, at which point, he informed John he'd thrown a rubber ball against the ceiling to wake John "unintrusively".

John laughed himself sick.


End file.
